


don't believe me just watch

by ariadne_odair



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, but that's because he wants harry's, hosted by niall, little bit of love hate, louis' a bit of a dick, new year parties, where everyone is drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 12:17:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2772707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariadne_odair/pseuds/ariadne_odair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>The thing is, Louis knows Harry’s name. Harry knows he does. Harry corrects him every time. Repeatedly. Politely. Slightly hysterically that time he’d walked in on Louis sucking a boy off in the toilets.</i><br/> </p><p> <br/>Uni AU were Harry strongly dislikes the footie captain that calls him Henry no matter how many times Harry corrects him and is unfairly gorgeous. Friends meet friends and somehow they end up alone at Niall's New Years Eve party. Louis says things he wouldn't sober. And do things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't believe me just watch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).
  * Translation into Polski available: [don't believe me just watch](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5550311) by [youcanbeenough](https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcanbeenough/pseuds/youcanbeenough)



> Oh my lord I almost forgot to post this, I am such a shitty human being, don't worry though all chill I DID IT :D Big big massive thanks to themapshirt for being a fab beta :) :) thank you so much!
> 
> Okay, daydreamingharry I hope you like what I did with your prompt :) sorry it's not that long, I really tried to make it good though so. Hopefully you like it! Have a lovely Christmas!

The thing is, Louis knows Harry’s name. Harry knows he does. Harry corrects him every time. Repeatedly. Politely. Slightly hysterically that time he’d walked in on Louis sucking a boy off in the toilets. **  
**

Louis, the absolute shit, had wiped his mouth, flicked his fringe, and said, “Hi, _Henry_ ,” like the seductive, little gremlin he is, and Harry had booked it out of there so fast he’d smacked into the door. **  
**

It doesn’t help that he can’t get that image out of his head now. Louis’ pretty, pink lips wrapped around a cock, eyes red at the strain, but taking it like he was born to, urging the guy to fuck his mouth -

\- so yeah, Harry might have thought about it, and he might of - theoretically, for purely scientific reasons, - he may have thought what it’d be like if he was the one getting a blowjob from Louis Tomlinson.

If Harry’s name is trivia, Louis’ is an accolade, a moniker worn as a crown, synonymous with captain of the football team, prettiest guy on campus, undisputed king of second year.

But it’s purely lust, no, it really is, because honestly? Louis’ a dick. It sends a thrum of irritation through Harry everytime he mispronounces Harry’s name, makes him feel small and inadequate, like Harry is that forgettable. He only does it make everyone else laugh, but Harry’s not laughing, which is not fair and also not very nice.

It’s misplaced disappointment if anything, that sadness that comes with _we could have been_. If Louis pulled his socks up, (again, literally because Louis never wears socks with his vans), and stopped being such a wanker, Harry could progress from having hate boner to having a crush without feeling guilty. You just feel stupid when you’re lusting over someone’s who’s a clear arse.

So Harry does the best he can to avoid Louis, grits his teeth and corrects him, then wanks off furiously in his bed that night, whilst wanting to punch himself for getting off to Louis fucking Tomlinson.

**  
  
  
  
  
**

“Why are we here?” Harry says bluntly, “I hate football. I don’t want to be here.”

Niall ignores him, just props his foot up on the seat in front of him. He stares at Harry. “Can you get me a hotdog?”

Harry glares at him. “Niall, did you just hear what I said? I want to go back to my nice, cosy room, shove a pot noodle in the shitty communal microwave, and watch the latest episode of X Factor.”

“No,” Niall says flatly, “get me a hot dog. I’d have thought this would something you’d _like_. Hot guys running around in shorts. Getting sweaty. Tackling other men. Rolling in dirt.”

“I could get that for £15 a month with my subscriptions to _fuckmetwinks_ ,” Harry says flatly, “and it would be in my nice, cosy room. With my pot noodle.” He raises his voice slightly hysterically. “I don’t see any pot noodle, Niall.”

“Stop being a twat,” Niall scowls. “It’s social and shit. It’s 90 minutes out of your life, then I’ll buy that beanie you were eyeing up, okay?”

Harry brightens immediately, snuggling close to Niall for warmth. It’s cold, the brisk air biting into his cheeks, leaving pink tints to his skin. He’s wrapped in his peacoat, the one Gem got for him for his birthday, hiding his frigid skin in the soft fabric.

It’s Christmas in almost a month, frost curling like cobwebs over the stands, covering the stiff grass like lightly dusted icing. The metal seats of the stands numb his skin, and he practically climbs into Niall’s lap to escape it. Niall just shuffles over and lets him, tucking an easy hand around his waist.

Niall’s rosy cheeked too, but that’s out of excitement more than anything. His crystal eyes are ablaze with anticipation, staring intently at the pitch as the players walk onto the pitch. Harry sighs, glancing at them, then shrieks when he reads the familiar name on the back of one of the players.

“Niall,” Harry hisses, whipping his head round to glare at him, “no one told me Louis Tomlinson was playing!”

Instead of gasping dramatically, then agreeing to leave for the sake of Harry’s honour, Niall just shrugs and grins. “Yeah, Tommo’s awesome. He’s friends with Liam, we had a kick around last week in the park.”

“Tommo?” Harry snaps, “why are you friends with him? I _hate_ him, he’s the one I told you about, the one that always calls me Henry!”

Niall’s eyes widen. “Tommo - “

“Stop calling him Tommo,” Harry moans, “It’s not fair he gets a nickname. I don’t even get a real name! I have a real name and I don’t even get to keep it!”

Niall pauses. “Do you want to sleep with him?”

“No,” Harry explodes, “because if I do, you know what he’d be moaning the whole time? Henry! He’d moan Henry!”

“You’re getting too worked up about this,” Niall says slowly, looking at Harry as if he’s a little kid throwing a tantrum. “Let’s just watch the game, okay?”

“You owe me two headscarves,” Harry sulks, “I’m not going to cheer.”

“Okay,” Niall says calmly. “Can you get me a hotdog now?”

**  
  
  
  
  
**

After the game, which is long and boring, and Louis scores, and Louis looks really good in his shorts, and his _bum_ , and shut up Harry, _after the game_ Niall decides he’s going to go see some of the guys on the team.

This is hideously bad idea, because chances are Louis will be there. A high chance, because Louis plays on the team, and, you know, the team tend to hang around in the changing room after the match.

However, it’s that or walk home like a loser by himself, so Harry just trudges after Niall instead. He pulls his scarf tighter around his neck. Maybe if he puts more layers on they won’t be able to see him.

It becomes how apparent how bad an idea this was when Louis and two other boys come out of the changing room, because Harry feels as though all the air rushes out of him when he sees Louis, his lungs working frantically to steal it back, his heart beating crazily as heat rushes through him.

Louis’ hair is messy, the fringe falling across his forehead. His jaw line is delicate and pretty, but he’s got a hint of scruff that makes Harry’s stomach flip. His icy blue eyes rake over Harry, and Harry already knows what he’s going to say before the words leave his (stupidly pretty) mouth.

“Henry,” Louis drawls, name lazy and drawn out, and Harry closes his eyes in frustration.

“It’s Harry,” Harry says calmly. “It was Harry last week in the student union. It was Harry when you walked past me in halls on Thursday. It was Harry when you stole my book in the library yesterday. Amazingly, it’s still Harry today.”

Louis shrugs, the movement languid and so arrogant, any butterflies that Harry had been feeling dissipate immediately. “My mistake. Maybe you should wear a name tag.”

“Maybe you should just stop talking to me,” Harry retort, uncharacteristic anger flaring - though it’s a pavlovian response around Louis now. “The stress of remembering one name is obviously too much, wouldn’t want to put a strain on your motor skills too.”

“Louis, are you being dick?” one of Louis’ friends drawl, and Harry recognises Zayn Malik, amber eyes and artfully arranged quiff, listlessly rolling a cigarette.

“Babe, not in here,” Liam says, Niall’s friend he talked about, pink lips pouting in Zayn’s direction.

Zayn looks at Liam, then longingly at the cigarette, then back at Liam. He sighs, then slides the cigarette into his pocket. Liam beams, then laces his fingers with Liam, palms sliding together and locking like puzzle pieces.

“Are you weaning him off cigarettes with sex?” Niall asks curiously, “if you are I need to start smoking.”

Louis laughs, and Zayn just rolls his eyes. “Not quite.”

“Are you coming to my New Year’s party?” Niall asks, “I’ve brought all the booze.”

Louis lights up at that, which makes Harry’s heart twist even further. “Hell yeah, I’m expecting to get smashed, Horan. I won’t stand for a second hand getting buzzed.”

“You have met Niall?” Harry mumbles, and it startles a laugh out of Louis. Harry’s not sure whether he’s happy about that or not. Probably not. Definitely not. Harry doesn’t need Louis’ approval. He’s an independent man.

“I’m coming,” Zayn offers, one thumb rubbing over Liam’s knuckles. He smirks. “Hopefully more than once.”

“Fuck off,” Niall snaps, “you can come wherever, just not in my bathroom like last time, you dirty bastards. Do you know how traumatising that was?”

“Please, it wasn’t traumatising, it was countless inspiration for you wank bank,” Louis snorts, causing Liam and Niall to glare at him, and Zayn to just laugh, throwing back his head.

Harry shuffles his feet, wiggling his toes in his beat up boots. He needs to get some new ones. Niall notices his fidgeting and says goodbye to the other quickly, promising them new year’s will be amazing, and more importantly packed with alcohol. Louis gives Harry this look before the three boys go, a quick once over with something flashing in his eyes that Harry can’t name. Either way it makes him squirm, turning away quickly.

“You’re coming to the party, aren’t you?” Niall asks, then doesn’t wait for an answer, babbling on about what he’s going to have next time he goes to Nandos.

Harry has a horrible feeling he’s very, very screwed.

**  
  
  
  
**

Harry only sees Louis once before he leaves for Christmas holidays. He’s going to his mum’s for a couple of weeks, then heading over to Niall’s for new years. He’s finished all his Christmas shopping, neatly packed into his suitcase. He’d spent ages picking out the prettiest wrapping paper.

He’s wanders into one of the coffee shops near campus, thinking a latte would be nice to warm his hands up. He’s just waved one of his friends off at the train station, so he could do with a little heat.

He doesn’t even realise who’s behind the counter until he looks up, jumping slightly at the sight of Louis Tomlinson.

“Oh,” Harry says dumbly, biting his bottom lip, “I didn’t know you worked here.”

Louis looks unfairly pretty this morning, which is seriously throwing Harry off. He’s working a blue beanie, caramel fringe fanning out underneath, a smudge of flour on one of his cheeks.

“Yep,” Louis grins cheerfully, “esteemed employee since I got crippling student debt. Not that I get paid that much. A shitty amount, to be fair, but better than _Toys R Us_.”

Harry giggles, cocking his head to one side. “You worked at _Toys R Us_?”

“I got fired from _Toys R Us_ ,” Louis corrects, smirk tugging at his lips. “Got sacked from a lot of places to be fair. The only reason I’ve kept this job is because I’m sleeping with Jesy.”

“Oh,” Harry says, stepping back awkwardly, “er. Right.”

“He’s not sleeping with me,” a girl says loudly, bustling out of the kitchen to grab a couple of serviettes. “He’s gay. I have standards. Also, because of that Louis, you’re cleaning the coffee filter later.”

“What?” Louis screeches, but the girl just flips him off, smirking at Harry as she leaves.

“I like her,” Harry says casually, whilst Louis is still swearing his head off. Louis glares at him, forehead scrunching together adorably. He means, not adorably. Harry doesn’t think anything Louis does is adorable. Because he doesn’t think of him in those parameters. Or any parameters apart from total dickhead.

“You have no taste,” Louis snaps, “she’s horrible to me. I’m complaining to management.” He pauses for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip. “Actually, I probably won’t. Jesy’s quite nice really. Plus she always bitches about the customers with me.”

"Er, right,” Harry says. His head’s starting to spin about with Louis’ babbling. “Um, could I make my order now?”

It might be Harry’s imagination, but Louis’ face falls, disappointment flashing over his features before his eyes go hard, flat like blue flint. Harry has the uncomfortable feeling that he’s done something wrong, broken something but he doesn’t know how to fix.

“Yeah, fine,” Louis says bluntly, and doesn’t look at Harry. Harry feels kind of bereft, so he just rattles off his order as quickly as possible. Louis shoves it at Harry, in a to go cup even though Harry wanted to drink it inside.

He leaves as quick as he can - the sentiment is pretty clear - and it’s only when he looks down at the cup that he realises what it says.

In unabashed, stocky, black letters, is the name: _Henry_.

**  
  
  
  
  
  
**

Harry tries to fight stereotypes about Ireland and drinking, but whenever he goes to Niall’s new year’s eve party, which is full or Niall and also all of Niall’s cousins, all his good intentions seem to go out the door.

“Haz,” Niall grins when he opens the door, throwing his arms around Harry. He squeezes him hard, then smacks a huge kiss on Harry’s cheek. He shoves a beer in Harry’s hand, and a christmas hat on his curls. “There, you look proper festive, babe.”

“Thanks,” Harry laughs, adjusting the hat so it sits better, “you alright? You want to hear a new year’s joke - “

“No,” Niall drawls, clapping one hand over Harry’s mouth. Harry licks his palm. Niall blinks at him then wipes his palm on Harry’s jumper. “I want you to sleep with Louis. He’s already pissed, all I’ve heard all night is curly this, curly that, not to mention Bressie almost stood on him - “

“Wait, what?”

“Well, Bressie is pretty tall compared to Louis, and Louis was pretty drunk - “

“No, why was Louis asking about me?” Harry asks. His ears are pounding with the loud music. “Why do you want me to sleep with Louis? I don’t - “

“Look, you sort it out,” Niall says, grabbing Harry’s arm and tugging him towards the living room. “He’s been pining for you all night, it’s getting on my tits. It’s also stupidly cute, but there you go.”

“Um, okay,” Harry says slowly, but Niall’s already smacking him on the back, running off to go proposition some other hapless party guest. Harry shakes his head, takes a sip of his drink, and heads off to dance.

He dances for a bit, shaking his head and flexing his hips, grinning at a pretty blond girl who dances with him. He dances with a couple of boys as well, pretty boys who definitely don’t have blue eyes. Someone cranks the sound up at some point, and everyone cheers, the bass resonating in Harry’s bones.

“Hey,” someone shouts in his ear, and Harry turns to see Jesy from the coffee shop behind him. Her curly brown hair has streaks of purple, and she’s working short shorts and a black boots. She looks very pretty but also very intimidating.

“Dance with me,” she grins, so Harry does, Jesy giggling at him when he trips over his pigeon feet. “Have you seen Louis yet?” she shouts over the music, Harry straining to hear her, “he’s been moping for months. I wanted to dunk his head in the coffee grinder numerous times.”

“Um, no,” Harry says slowly, “why is everyone talking about me and Louis? He doesn’t even know my name, why would he care?”

Jesy stares at him. “He doesn’t know your name?”

“He calls me Henry,” Harry says grumpily, pouting. He tries to look irritated but it doesn’t work, if Jesy patting his cheek is any indication. “I told him my name was Harry. But he called me Henry instead.”

“It’s a defence mechanism,” Jesy shouts back, shaking her head, “he only does it to people he really likes. He called me Jeanie for three days when he met me.”

“What did you do to get him to call you your real name?” Harry asks.

“Kicked him in the balls,” Jesy says casually, “though I think they’re something you’re probably invested in.”

Harry opens his mouth, then shuts it. Jesy shrugs, then looks over his shoulder. “I’ve got to go, my friend’s over there. Just go find him, okay?”

“Okay,” Harry promises, and Jesy nods, patting his shoulder before slipping away. Harry’s head is throbbing, he’s slightly scared to ever go back in the coffee shop again, and his ears hurt.

He slips away to the kitchen, sighing at the cool air of the empty room. He leans against one of the counters, closing his eyes for a second. Lights dance behind his eyelids, and he slowly inhales.

A couple stumble into the kitchen, and it takes a moment before Harry realises it’s Liam and Zayn. Liam’s arm is tucked around Zayn's waist, fingers are tucked into Zayn’s belt loops. They both look a little drunk and a lot happy. Harry’s pretty certain Zayn has one hand in the back pocket of Liam’s jeans.

“Oh,” Liam grins, “hey, Harry. Happy new year.”

“You too,” Harry smiles. He’s always been a romantic at heart, and Zayn and Liam are just so cute. It makes his heart ache a little.

“Hey, Harry,” Zayn says, smiling, which makes Harry’s pulse race a little. Not like he’s a home wrecker, but it is Zayn Malik. “You should go check out the garden, there’s going to be fireworks really soon.”

“Someone gave Niall fireworks?”

“Niall probably stole the fireworks,” Liam corrects, grinning, “because no one would be crazy enough to actually give him any.”

“I better go check he’s not blowing himself up,” Harry sighs, “not that I’ll be any help, I’ll probably kick them over.”

“Do you want me to help? Zayn, maybe we should help - ” Liam asks anxiously, looking worried, but then Zayn’s kissing Liam’s neck, and Liam doesn’t look like he’ll be following anytime soon.

Harry stumbles into the back garden. It’s pretty dark, he can only see from the soft light of the porch lights. He almost trips over a stone garden gnome at one point. Harry doesn’t question why Niall has a stone garden gnome, because you sort of just accept Niall’s quirks after a while.

There is no fireworks, but there is one Louis Tomlinson, sitting on the garden steps, knees pulled up to his chest. He looks very small, packed up and curled in like a shy animal. He looks up when Harry approaches. Harry hesitates, but Louis’ entire face splits into a grin.

“Harry!” he squeals, then jumps up. Harry suddenly finds himself with an armful of Louis Tomlinson, warm and soft, snuggling into his arms. “Come sit we meee. I’m cold.”

“Um, okay,” Harry says weakly, which seems to be the most common thing he says to Louis. Louis is tugging him towards the steps, pushing him down with his little hands.

Louis smiles happily. “Harry. Harold. Hazza,” he wheedles.

He is so drunk. Harry is so endeared.

“I always call you the wrong name,” Louis sighs. He looks so forlorn, even his bottom lip is trembling. Harry has the urge to hug him as tight as he can. “It’s such a dick move. I’m sorry for being a dick. I shouldn’t be a dick. Being a dick is wrong.”

“Er, that’s okay,” Harry says cautiously, “Louis, how much have you had to drink?”

“I mean, I know your name,” Louis continues, drawing out the last word petulantly, “I’m not stupid. I know what your name is, I just get distracted. By your hair.”

Harry smiles. “My hair?”

“It’s so fluffy,” Louis says seriously, then begins to play with Harry’s curls. Louis’ hands are deft and soft, and Harry tries not to purr with how good it feels, the way Louis cards through the strands. “Like kitty cat fur.”

God, Louis saying kitty cat is the cutest thing in Harry’s life. He is so screwed. This is very bad. Louis is very drunk, and not able to give full consent, and very soft, and very cute, and in Harry’s lap -

“Er, Louis,” Harry manages, as Louis clambers into his lap, “what are you doing?”

“My bum was cold,” Louis says nonchalantly, “the cold stone was freezing. My poor bum. It’s a good bum, right?”

Harry swallows. “Um, it’s a lovely bum. Uh, very - I - “

“Shut up, Harry,” Louis sighs, and then he’s kissing him.

It’s a little sloppy because of the drink, but Louis’ mouth is hot, his lips soft. He licks into Harry’s mouth like he wants to taste, running his tongue over Harry’s teeth, making Harry groan. He closes his eyes, heart beating like crazy, wrapping his arms around Louis tightly.

Louis mewls into his mouth, and heat flashes through Harry. He can feel himself getting hard as Louis fists his hands in his hair, fingers tugging on his curls, just the right side of pleasure. He feels hot, on fire as he tugs Louis’ bottom lip into his mouth, letting his fingers dip down over the curve of his arse.

“Jesus,” Louis says when he pulls back. His pupils’ are absolutely blown, his lips slick red with spit.

“Uh huh,” Harry mumbles, and they both laugh breathlessly. Their lips seem to meet on their own accord, both leaning forward at the same time to slide against each other’s.

“I’ve been waiting to do that forever,” Louis mutters when they break apart again, “I am sorry about being a dick. I’m a bit of an idiot about people I like.”

“I’ve been told,” Harry says lightly, grinning about the outrage on Louis’ face.

“By who?” Louis demands. His hands are still looped around Harry’s neck, palms pressed against his neck. “It was Zayn, wasn’t it? That mother fucker, I’m going to kick him in the - “

“It was Jesy,” Harry says quickly, trying not to laugh at the ferocity on Louis’ face. He looks like a little lion. “The girl who works with you.”

“Oh, her,” Louis says darkly, “I thought I was going to have to have a testicle removal operation. I have never been in so much pain in my entire life.”

“How drunk are you?” Harry asks, bringing one hand up to thumb over Louis’ cheekbone. When Louis smiles there are little crinkles at the corner of his eyes.

“Drunk enough to do this,” Louis says, and slides his hand down Harry’s trousers. Harry hadn’t even realised he’d undone, so clearly Louis is a miracle worker.

“Louis,” Harry moans, as Louis’ hand works over his cock. His hand is hot and it feels amazing wrapped around him. Louis’ still in his lap, a solid weight on his legs, and Harry tips his head back, lets out a moan.

Louis moves his hand slowly up and down, gently thumbing over Harry’s slit. He can feel a dribble of pre-cum spurt out, but Louis just moves his hand faster, reaching back to play with Harry’s balls. All he can hear is the slick sound of Louis’ hand working over his cock, the soft pants of his breath as he feels his orgasm begin to build. Louis keeps eye contact with him the entire time, and as Harry watches he licks his lips slowly. It’s that that sends Harry over the edge, coming with a shout, coming all over Louis’ hand.

“Oh my god,” Harry pants, but Louis’ ignoring him, finishing himself off quickly, moaning as his head tips back. Harry realises Louis’ getting himself off with a hand covered in Harry’s come, sending a surge of possessiveness through him.

He surges forward to kiss Louis’ neck, sucks on the skin there, biting down on it as Louis comes with a moan. Harry gives the broken skin one last swipe with his tongue, before pulling back. Louis’ slack with orgasm, fluttering his eyelashes sleepily, and Harry’s never seen anyone so gorgeous.

Louis wipes his hand unceremoniously on the grass, sliding off Harry’s legs with a thump. He gives Harry a sharp, little grin, and Harry starts laughing. “We just did that on Niall’s porch.”

Louis laughs too, grinning even wider. “At least we beat Zayn and Liam. We definitely won the round of sex escapades.”

“How many points do you get for exhibitionism?” Harry asks slyly, and Louis lets out a little bark of laughter.

“At least ten,” he says in a mock-serious voice, “though Liam and Zayn did do it in Niall’s bed once. That was a solid fifteen.”

He pauses, looking down at his lap. His shoulders slump slightly, and Harry realises Louis is nervous. It’s so weird to see Louis nervous. It makes Harry want to kiss him until all his confidence comes back.

“Maybe, um, we could try for a fifteen too?” Louis says quietly, hands clasped in front of each other.

“Depends,” Harry says softly, reaching forward and linking their hands. They fit together, he notes, slide into place like Liam and Zayn’s did. “Do you want to?”

Louis smiles. “Will you respect me in the morning?”

Harry smirks. “Will you remember my name in the morning?”

Louis groans, burying his face in his hands. “I only did that because I didn’t know how to deal with you! You’re so - “

“Fluffy?” Harry suggests innocently, “Like a kitty cat? You did say that - “

“Shut up,” Louis says, but his tone is laced in fondness, “you can’t hold what I said while drunk against me, especially because I’m orgasm sober.”

“That sounds disgusting,” Harry giggles, brushing his jeans off. He pushes himself off, wincing as his back cracks. He quickly zips his jeans up, before offering a hand to Louis. “Let’s go watch the fireworks. And I’ll do you one better, by the way. I’ll make you breakfast, Lewis.”

“Yeah, that’s not a thing,” Louis says, taking Harry’s hand and curling their fingers together, “Lewis is so not a thing. Call me that again and I’ll kick you in the balls.”

“I’ll get Jesy to kick you back,” Harry replies, then kisses Louis to shut him up.

**  
  
  
  
**

Much, much later, Louis ‘forgets’ Harry’s name again. Only it’s not his first one - it’s his second one, and honestly?

He kind of likes the sound of Harry Tomlinson. **  
**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the hosters of the exchange! Kudos and comments would be lush :) have a great holiday everyone :)
> 
> Just wanted to say this has got more kudos than I thought possible! Over 600! Thank you so much that is incredible!! :) I am writing for the one direction big bang, so you know, if you liked it subscribe! :) 
> 
> [tumblr if you want to check it out!](http://ariadneodair.tumblr.com/)
> 
> but you don't have to!


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